The Final Examination

By: S.P
Competition Year: 2013
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On the day the new chapter unveiled
I sat frozen on an half-full seat,
Projecting my silence in an ancient hall
It was to be an oscar repeat,
With minutes left to engineer my pen
I deciphered the Fibonacci code,
And like a pick haggling a lock
I unshackled my narrow flooded mind,
Unsheathed my righteous left hand,
In an instance it took me back in time.


In a mist of eighteen-twenty-four,
Near the very same ancient hall,
I inhale the fumes of industry
In a proud purple victorian attire,
Thinking of my life with an institute
I see Brunel running down with fire,
I chase after, to calm and contemplate,
then like Archimedes out his boat,
I pepper him with lecture notes.


Round by round we shadow boxed,
In a ghost filled sackvile street,
With fight, flight and plight in air, I swing,
“How do I resist beam deflection
and how does this relate to life?,
What is the meaning of connections
and how much should I write?”,
With eager anticipation of a reverie
I received the burns of a left hook,
His response was transparent,
A winning move, pawn takes rook.


Two hours gone; I lay down my worn pen,
As I sag in my chair, flooding with emotion,
Re-reading and reciting this worded den,
My mouth widens with a tired sigh,
I reflect my time gone by, with a dignified cry.
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